


Prima Facie

by caleyedoscope



Series: Perspectives [1]
Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ, Super Junior, f(x)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:03:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caleyedoscope/pseuds/caleyedoscope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know you. I know that you love women, that you love their softness and their beauty, and that you might even love her, even though the law will kill you for it. So be honest with yourself. What options do you have? What can you possibly do except run? Changmin, you have to disappear.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prima Facie

**Author's Note:**

> written 12/22/2011

01\. prima facie.  
 _at first sight_

-

 _His mouth is soft against hers and pliant, his hands warm where they brush against her skin, and she feels a tear trace down her cheek.  
  
She’ll never understand why this is wrong. _  
  
-  
  
There are places Changmin can go that will allow him to touch women without getting thrown into prison. Places for women and men to meet mutually, to kiss and caress or make love if they want, places disguised as apartments or regular hotels, that if they know the passwords and secrets for, they can use however they’d like.  
  
Changmin’s lost count of how many he’s seen, but this one is different than the others, because he can mingle, if he wants. He likes it, and is glad his friend knows the owner. He would never have gotten in otherwise.  
  
He slides into a booth with a drink and just watches. There’s a man across the room who’s getting blown (in a very obvious manner) from someone underneath the table (Changmin can see the tips of heels sticking out from underneath the table cloth.) Several couples are making out against the bar, and quite a number of people on the dance floor clutching each other as the grind to the music, a few even lying across tables naked as they touch themselves and try to get a little attention. And then there’s people like him, just sipping on drinks, flirting a little, just watching. Waiting.  
  
He’s a little aroused, but it’s exhibitionism, really. Changmin’s not here for that.  
  
He sips his drink carefully, casting an eye out at the mass of writhing limbs, not really searching for anyone in particular, but not rejecting the idea of anyone either. There’s no such thing as slow in the world of heterosexual love. Slow is dangerous. Changmin knows this, has heard many stories of people dating, meeting outside clubs, renting hotel rooms thinking they won’t get caught, but end up thrown in jail, or even killed, depending on what they had been found doing.  
  
Fulfilling any sort of need, be it sex or just companionship, is safest in a club, where there are people watching for officers or bounty hunters. Most establishments even have a secret signal system built into the lights or music. It’s hard to get into clubs like this, but once here, people are safe. It may be exhibitionism, but it’s not for its own sake: it’s because they have no other option. Unless they live in a relatively safe neighborhood with soundproof walls and trustworthy neighbors, it’s the  _only_  option.  
  
Changmin takes another sip, and then another, feeling the burn down his throat. He’s half way through his glass when he catches sight of her, fiddling with the edges of her hair and watching him from under a fringe of bangs. She’s just as clothed as he is, a strange sight in a place like this, but it’s what he’s looking for and he smiles as she approaches. “Hi,” she says, and her accent makes his toes curl, “Can I sit with you?”  
  
“I’d like that,” Changmin nods.  
  
She puts her drink down on the table, tucking her feet up under her and resting her chin on her knees. Changmin has a sudden urge to run his fingers through the curtain of hair that’s flaring out around her and only just manages to not. “I’m Qian,” she says and he grasps her hand for a moment.  
  
“Changmin,” he smiles, and has a hard time letting her fingers go.  
  
They sit silently, happy to have a warm body nearby, happy to have a drink, before she asks, “Can I lean on you?”  
  
He slides an arm around her in response and they cuddle, Changmin closing his eyes and relishing the feel of her body against his, and he briefly imagines being able to do this whenever he wants.  
  
Really, it’s the only reason why he bothers coming to places like this: imagining. Imagining someone to love, a  _woman_  to love, a woman that’s his, that he can have a family with, come home to, even kiss in public. And he rather thinks she’s imagining the same thing about him. She’s playing with his hands, running her fingers over his palm and knuckles and Changmin fights down an urge to imagine what those hands would feel like on other parts of his body.  
  
The music changes abruptly, a song Changmin’s learned to associate with fear and dread, and Qian’s faster than him, detangling their bodies and scooting an appropriate distance away, a distance that says friends, not lovers. The kissing stops, stilettoed feet under the table pass out drunk, the grinding bodies turn and press up against bodies of the same sex, and just in time.  
  
It’s obvious that the next few people to stumble into the bar are plain clothed officers trying to root out underground heterosexual societies and people trying to have illegal babies. It takes everything Changmin has to not grab the nearest heavy object and lob it at their heads.  
  
Two of them sit down at a table next to himself and Qian, and Changmin can feel their gazes burning into the side of his face. He orders another drink for Qian, and starts a facade which she readily falls into: a woman whose partner just left her for someone else and needs a night out with a friend and lots of alcohol.  
  
He even drags the woman officer into it when Qian starts to sob hysterically, blubbering into the rim of her glass of raspberry vodka. “She’s beautiful, right? She’ll find someone else to love. Qian, don’t be so sad. There’s someone out there who’s perfect for you.”  
  
The officer seems to take pity, patting Qian’s back and telling her that she herself has had five girlfriends, and it’s only this last one that’s really been good to her. So don’t worry, she’ll find someone. “Maybe you should lay off the alcohol,” the officer suggests, and Changmin nods.  
  
“Maybe I should take you home. You’ve had quite a night.”  
  
He slings an arm around Qian’s waist, and grimaces as she stumbles against him. She’s good at acting drunk, that is for sure. “Sorry if we bothered you,” Changmin says to the officer, bowing, and he’s waved off.  
  
“She’s lucky to have a friend like you,” the woman says, “I’m sure she’ll find a beautiful woman to love. Make sure you tell her that when she’s lucid.”  
  
“Oh, I will,” Changmin smiles, “Thank you again.”  
  
They stumble out together, Qian still wailing about her lost love, and even when they’re a safe distance away from the bar, she doesn’t stop. She stumbles over her feet, dragging him along as they walk, and he realizes with a jolt that under the pretense of friendship, he is going to her apartment. Or house. The place where she lives. Even though she isn’t at all drunk, and he wonders if maybe she’s expecting something.  
  
“I’m not going to stay,” Changmin murmurs into her ear.  
  
She looks up at him, still feigning a drunken gaze that look suspiciously like puppy dog eyes and sniffs.  
  
“Maybe for a little while, then,” he finds himself amending, though certainly not for long.  
  
She doesn’t give up the pretense until she’s let him into her apartment, a quaint little thing tucked into a side street, and he appreciates it as she draws her blinds and shades, turning off what lights she can and locking them both inside.  
  
Honestly, he’s not sure what they’re going to do, now that he’s said (in not so many words) that he doesn’t want to have sex just yet, but she emerges from the depths of the apartment with food, drinks and a movie, so he’s happy to go back to their cuddling. It’s been a really long time since he’s been able to cuddle someone. He tells her this, when the plot becomes predictable and he gets bored, resting his mouth next to her ear.  
  
She squeezes his hand. “So we can do this again?”  
  
This and maybe more, Changmin wants to say, but decides to kiss her instead. That’s answer enough, he thinks, and presses in closer, shoving the snacks away and tugging her onto his lap, their mouths still fused. It’s not until he hears her moan that he gives in, sliding his hands up her body and getting a little gasp as he grazes her breasts on his way to cup her cheeks.  
  
“Please stay,” she whispers, “God, Changmin, please stay.”  
  
“You’ve only just met me.”  
  
“I don’t care. You’re kissing me and you’re touching me  _everywhere_  and I don’t want you to stop. Okay? I want,” she licks her lips, “You. I want to touch you back, I want to make you feel good, Changmin  _please_. Please touch me, I’m so tired of touching myself.”  
  
And okay, that’s an image Changmin isn’t going to forget any time soon.  
  
“So tonight,” he says back, “You can touch yourself and imagine me. And tomorrow, you can let me take you out to lunch.”  
  
She pulls back a bit, pouting.  
  
“Dinner?” He offers. “I’ll bring a friend, you bring a friend, and we should be safe.”  
  
“And then tomorrow you stay?” She’s damn near begging.  
  
“Maybe for a little more of this,” he agrees, “And then we’ll see.”  
  
Leaving is a lot harder than he would have thought, and it takes a good half hour to part from her mouth and stumble out of the door.  
  
—  
  
Kyuhyun is the only friend of Changmin’s that knows he’s straight. It’s not that Changmin doesn’t trust his other friends, but the fewer people that know the better, and some of his friends would definitely squeal in the face of torture or threat of death. Unfortunately (at least for him,) it’s human nature to save yourself, so Changmin just keeps it secret and so does Kyuhyun.  
  
They pretend to be partners when Changmin needs a cover, and are notorious among their friends for their on again off again relationship that sometimes lasts a day or a month before deteriorating.  
  
Kyuhyun being a doctor makes it easy to pretend, his long hours at the hospital keeping him away for the most part. He even has a clinical trial he is spearheading, though Changmin can never remember what it’s supposed to cure.  
  
They meet at a restaurant in downtown Seoul, somewhere not so popular, but one of Changmin’s favorites for the privacy it allows. The booths are tucked in tight against each other and though there are plenty of places to sit, you can only see two tables at a time from anywhere in the room. Some even had curtains that could be drawn, though Changmin is smart enough to never do so: you never know if there’s a camera hidden away, intent on capturing any sort of illegal activity.  
  
“So you wanna hook up?” Kyuhyun asks him conversationally. He means with Qian, but anyone listening would most likely think he meant himself and Changmin.  
  
“Stupid question,” Changmin says, and orders them both drinks. His wine glass is half empty when Qian finally shows up, friend in tow. “This is Jinri,” Qian introduces, and after a moment of shuffling so everyone’s comfortable, Kyuhyun is pressed against Changmin’s right side and Qian is pressed against his left, which burns, though perhaps that’s only in Changmin’s head.  
  
Jinri is sweet (naive) but she clearly knows what Qian is to Changmin, because she probes him with a lot of questions, like what Changmin does for a living (“Librarian. Don’t laugh! I’m a wealth of knowledge,”) and where he grew up, (“Seoul, though I really love Busan.”)  
  
Qian, he discovers, is a dancer, but he knows he’s already supposed to know her, and just to be safe, acts as though he’s not surprised. She tells Kyuhyun about it, however, and Changmin has to swallow as he imagines her body doing all the things she’s describing.  
  
“Distract me,” he whispers to Kyuhyun, when Qian cracks her neck, grinning.  
  
His friend rolls his eyes, but tugs Changmin’s face around to kiss him full on the lips.  
  
“Sexy,” Jinri comments, Kyuhyun’s hand forceful on the small of Changmin’s back. She nudges Qian’s side, “Find a girlfriend already.”  
  
“I’ll just make one out of thin air, then, shall I?” Qian scoffs, and Changmin’s happy to see that she isn’t at all phased, even when he keeps a hold on Kyuhyun’s hand until their dinner arrives.  
  
Which he thinks is a normal dinner until Kyuhyun nudges his side with an elbow and jerks his head towards the bar.  
  
Changmin can only see two chairs before it extends beyond his vision, and one of them is occupied by a man that’s clearly an officer, if the gun hanging on his hip is an indication. “He’s been staring at us,” Kyuhyun whispers.  
  
Changmin knows Qian hears it because she stiffens. He turns towards Kyuhyun cupping his cheek and kisses him again. Twice in one night is perhaps a bit much, but better than getting arrested.  
  
“You two are disgusting,” Qian comments, and Changmin pulls away, licking his lips.  
  
“We’re fantastic.”  
  
“Then just marry already,” She sniffs, “You’re breaking my heart over here.”  
  
Changmin laughs, slinging an arm around Kyuhyun’s shoulder, “Sorry. I can’t even help myself.”  
  
“Yeah, well, keep your bedroom activities to a bedroom,” Qian says.  
  
“My bedroom’s not fit to be slept in,” Kyuhyun mourns sadly, “I have clinical trial papers as my new flooring.”  
  
“You can come to my flat,” Qian says, “We can all have a movie night. I have a spare bedroom if you want it.”  
  
Kyuhyun agrees for them. There’s certainly no harm in a movie and then just…seeing where it leads, if only for a little while. It sets a mood for the rest of the dinner that Changmin can’t quite shake, even as they walk out.  _No such thing as dating_ , Changmin repeats to himself, over and over as they ride the subway, walk up a flight of stairs to her apartment, and as they toe off their shoes, Kyuhyun says it aloud for him: “You can’t do slow.”  
  
“Thanks for that,” Changmin rolls his eyes, but as he watches Qian move through the apartment, shoving Jinri playfully as she tosses off a coat, he realizes he actually means it.  
  
Kyuhyun just claps him on the back.  
  
“We’ll just be in here,” Jinri says from the living room, waving a movie in front of Changmin’s face. “We’ll turn the volume way up.”  
  
She and Kyuhyun chuckle, clearly impressed with themselves and Changmin feels a rush of affection for his friend. Seriously, who would sit outside a room in a grungy apartment to cover for two people who clearly only want to jump each other’s skin? Though, whether or not that’s actually going to happen…  
  
He feels Qian grab at his hand. “You should give me a massage.”  
  
“Should I?” Changmin pretends to consider it, laughing as she pouts, poking at his stomach. He feels a little flutter at the smile that blooms across her face and they walk into the bedroom together, shutting the door. He thinks of their friends outside, ready to cover for them and feels safe.  
  
He waits, swallowing hard as she strips off her shirt, obviously knowing what every inch of skin is doing to him and loving it, loving the control she knows she has over him as she reaches back and unhooks her bra, giving him quite a view of her breasts (which are perfect, as far as he’s concerned,) before flopping down happily onto her stomach.  
  
He drags his hands down her spine, and digs his fingers into her shoulders until she’s sighing happily. He drifts his knuckles across her sides, and relishes in the shivers she tries to hide, and the way her hand fists into the blanket. He lets a nail scratch against a sensitive part of her skin and grins as she shudders.  
  
 _No such thing as slow_ , Changmin reminds himself, and leans down to kiss the side of her neck. He makes it halfway down her shoulder blade before he wants her mouth. That she’s half naked has completely escaped him, caring only about being able to get to her lips, and she seems to have the same thought, winding her arms around his neck as he presses her back into her pillows.  
  
Somewhere in between Changmin losing his clothes and sucking a line of hickeys down the column of her throat, she lets out a moan that goes straight to his cock and he nearly bites his tongue off in an attempt to muffle the noises he wants to make.  
  
He pulls away, not to stop, but to look, breathing labored as he faces her straight on, tracing lines down her torso, rubbing a thumb across a nipple, brushing against the line of her panties. She squirms, eyes closed, raising her hips a bit, clearly trying to get him to  _do_  something. But he sort of likes just watching her like this and it makes him laugh, perhaps a little deviously.  
  
“Do I need to touch myself, or are you going to do it for me?”  
  
The chuckle dies in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry as as one of her hands slides up to palm a breast and her other hand presses desperately against her panties, which, he notes, are pretty, but will probably be even prettier if she isn’t wearing them.  
  
“So gorgeous,” he murmurs, and reaches out, running his fingertips down her smooth legs. He decides to just talk to her: talk about her beautiful body and all the things he wanted to do to it, eventually. Some day soon. As he watches her move against her own fingers, he thinks that  _maybe soon_  might be tonight. He’s so hard he might explode.  
  
He tugs her panties off, tossing them away. “You win,” he breathes, “Come here. Get your hands on me.”  
  
Her grin is victorious, and she’s clearly been planning it. “Finally,” she grouses, and gets her legs around him, “Been so long,” and lets out a strangled cry as he slides a finger into her while mouthing a breast. And he teases her, grinning against her skin until she’s pleading him for more.  
  
It’s not until he’s seconds from making her come that he pulls away, sliding on a condom and pushing in and it’s glorious. It’s heavenly. Perfect. Everything he had wanted and when she finally arches into him, skin glistening in the light peeking in through the crack under the door, he lets go, muffling his cry in her shoulder.  
  
—  
  
Changmin goes home to find his apartment complex surrounded by police officers and roped off with neon yellow tape. He sees it in time to duck out of the way, but just barely, his heart in his throat, his happy post-sex glow disappearing in seconds. He darts around a neighbor’s house, following a line of bushes to get closer. He’s not sure that he’s the one all these people are after, but when he peers through a clump of leaves, he sees the officer from the club speaking with the officer from the restaurant and somehow instinctively  _knows_  that if he goes out there, he will be arrested. No question about it.  
  
And if they’re here for them, they’re no doubt going to go for Qian.  
  
He doubles back as quick as he can, sprinting down the street and onto the subway, praying no one is at her flat yet. He’s heaving for air when he arrives, banging on the door until he hears the lock click and a sleepy Qian answers, looking puzzled when she sees him and then pleased.  
  
He takes a moment to admire how adorable she is, before he shakes himself. “Get dressed. Do you have money? We’ll need it.”  
  
“What? I mean yes, but. What’s wrong?”  
  
“Officers at my house. They must have found out, or something. I don’t know. It’s not worth it to figure out, let’s just play it safe. Get dressed right now. Where’s your money?”  
  
“I only have a little bit.”  
  
“Okay. We’ll stop and get some.”  
  
“Where are we going?”  
  
“Kyuhyun’s for now. Somewhere that’s not here. Hurry!”  
  
He grabs a backpack from her room and tosses some clothes into it as she dresses. She has a small wad of cash hidden in her closet that he stuffs into the bag as well.  
  
“Changmin,” she whispers, clutching his elbow.  
  
He kisses her, then, sweetly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even ask you, I just.”  
  
“I’ll come,” she shakes her head, “I’m coming with you.”  
  
Qian shoves a baseball cap on her head and Changmin slings the pack onto his shoulders. He wishes he could hold her hand but it’s far too dangerous. The stay a safe distance apart, speed walking up the street and onto the subway. No one seems to be following them, but Changmin knows better than to relax. He also knows better than to call Kyuhyun in advance.  
  
They stop at an bank, emptying their accounts through an automated teller, and praying that no one’s tracking their cards yet and will notice. There’s just enough room in the back pack for most of the cash, and the extra bills they stuff into the pocket of Changmin’s sweatshirt. Kyuhyun has another bag, and along with some clothing for Changmin they’ll toss in there once they arrive.  
  
“I’ve never carried so much cash in my life,” Qian moans.  
  
He shushes her.  
  
Every single sound makes Changmin flinch, his heart speeding up in worry. They pass by pedestrians carefully, trying to look like two people heading in the same direction and not two people heading towards the same direction  _together_. He knows the statistics: ninety percent of all heterosexuals are caught because concerned citizens call it in, not because officers spot them, and so they’re careful.  
  
Changmin is so, so careful, because obviously they haven’t at all been.  
  
Kyuhyun’s house is dark when they arrive and Changmin rings the doorbell until he sees a light turn on through the window. Kyuhyun takes one look at them through the screen door and swears softly, ushering them inside.  
  
“Don’t tell me, just in case they come to ask questions.”  
  
Changmin doesn’t. Kyuhyun’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. “I need those clothes I left here,” he says, “And a bag.”  
  
Kyuhyun swears again, and he disappears into one of his bedrooms, coming out with a backpack, clothing and an array of hats for Changmin. He jams the first one that fits onto his head, shoving everything else into the pack, including the loose bills that had been in his pockets.  
  
“I’m going to use your bathroom,” Qian says.  
  
Mid gulp from a glass of water, Changmin hears her throw up.  
  
“What are you going to do?” Kyuhyun whispers.  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“Changmin.”  
  
“Kyuhyun, I have no idea.”  
  
His friend sighs. “Look. I know you. I know that you love women, that you love their softness, and their beauty, and that you could possibly fall in love with  _her_ , even though the law will kill you for it. So tell me. What options do you have? What can you possibly do except run? Changmin, you have to disappear.”  
  
But where does he go? And will Qian follow him? They had sex,  _good_  sex, but that doesn’t mean she’ll go wherever he ends up going. It doesn’t mean they’ll fall in love, and then what?  _We have no where to go_. “ _Where_?”  
  
He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until he suddenly cannot see, his vision swimming in front of him as he crashes onto his knees. He feels arms come around him and he knows it’s Qian; he clutches her, holds on tight until he can breathe normally, and he feels her kiss him, hears her croon in his ear. “We’ll be fine.”  
  
 _We_ , Changmin thinks.  
  
“We?”  
  
“We.” She says it like a promise.  
  
“Your best bet is the bar,” Kyuhyun tells them. “Lucky I’m friends with the owner.”  
  
“Super lucky,” Changmin says, and stands up.  
  
—  
  
 _Qian shivers in the cold of the room. She tries hard to look like she’s fine, but apparently sleeping with Changmin has made her an open book. It takes a heartbeat for him to wrap his arms around her tight. She thought she’d mind, but somehow, the warmth of his body and the soft material of his sweatshirt against her cheek calms her. She hears him start to apologize, because they don’t know each other. He just brought her along, and he’s_  so sorry _but she stops him, brushing her lips against his and squeezing his hands in hers._  It’s fine, _she tells him,_ I can get to know you now. I want to.  
  
 _So long as they can both get somewhere safe._  
  
—  
  
Sungmin loves owning a bar.  
  
Certainly part of it is that he makes an exorbitant amount of money, most of which goes under the table and lands in his pocket tax free. The other part of it, is that under the guise of his bar, he can have a secluded area hidden behind walls for heterosexual customers, and that makes him extraordinarily happy. He himself isn’t always into women, though granted he’s fooled around with a few. He takes whatever happens to fancy him at the moment, and it’s never steered him wrong before.  
  
At least until now. Who knew a one night stand with a med student from a few years back would land him with a couple of runaways. He wonders if he’s supposed to pretend that he doesn’t know him. Sungmin turns his attention to the other two first and after a few moments of staring, he recognizes them, and points a finger in the man’s face, a little peeved.  
  
“I remember you two. You stumbled out of here the other night pretending to be drunk. You were so obvious I never expected to see you again.”  
  
“Sungmin,” his one night stand says, “Come on.”  
  
“You. I can’t even remember your name! How can you bring in a couple of heterosexuals and expect me to just. I don’t even know. Why are you here?”  
  
He knows exactly why, of course. His name gets around to people that care about it. He knows exactly where to send heterosexuals when they walk through his doors, it’s just that he can’t admit that right away. He rarely says no; it’s never been a strong suit of his, and doesn’t expect that to change.  
  
“It’s Kyuhyun,” his one night stand says patiently, “And I know you can help because you did for another couple the night I was here. Made me fucking  _wait_  while you gave them a map and shoved them out the door.”  
  
“It was worth the wait, though, wasn’t it?” He grins. He distinctly remembers it being several kinds of spectacular, at least on his end. The first time, and all the times that had come after it, including the one last week. But he says nothing about that; he’s clearly supposed to be hiding it, and while Sungmin doesn’t care about the relationship Kyuhyun has with these people, he does love secrets, and so he says nothing.  
  
The man next to Kyuhyun snorts, rolling his eyes. “If you have time to check my friend out, then you have time to help. Please,” he adds, and it’s clear he’s desperate but not trying to sound it.  
  
Sungmin sighs. “Fine,” he agrees, “But I require payment.”  
  
“I’ll take care of that,” Kyuhyun butts in, “You just make sure they get out of town safe and I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.”  
  
“Kyuhyun,” the friend says hesitantly, and the girl behind him is frowning as she clutches his hand.  
  
“Shut up. I’m a doctor, you asshole, I have money coming out of my ears. This is the least I can do. You need to save as much money as you can.”  
  
“Not sure money is what I want as payment,” Sungmin quips.  
  
Kyuhyun glares at him, but Sungmin only laughs, raking his bangs back with a flourish. “I’ve got a room out back for the night. I’ll escort you to a safe house tomorrow.”  
  
“Where do we go from there?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Sungmin answers honestly, “I’m only one step of the chain. It’s safest that way.”  
  
Knowing the whole train to freedom is dangerous, and anyone with half of brain, at least once they think about it for awhile, will realize that. The friend, it seems, has at least some smarts, because he nods. He holds out a hand, clearly intent on introducing himself, but Sungmin stops him before the words can come out.  
  
“I don’t need to know who you are. No offense.”  
  
For a split second, they both look ready to be very offended, but then the woman relaxes, smiling. “None taken,” she assures him, “We understand.”  
  
Sungmin takes a moment to appraise her, the lilt of her words catching him slightly off guard. He’s tempted to ask where she’s from, and maybe if that’s where she’s trying to go, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He just beckons, herding them out back and into a room. “You’ll be safe here for the night. We’ll leave early. I’ll come and get you.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“You can say goodbye to your friend in the morning.”  
  
Kyuhyun, Sungmin means, because as far as he’s concerned, Kyuhyun will be staying the night with him. He hadn’t said it specifically but when he gets back to the bar, Kyuhyun’s helped himself to a glass of wine and is sipping it.  
  
“Liar,” he says, as soon as Sungmin’s twirling on a bar stool with his own glass. “How could say that you don’t even remember my name? I see you all the time. Sometimes even with other people!”  
  
“Well, have you told  _him_  that? You didn’t tell  _me_  about him, so…”  
  
He waves his wine, letting Kyuhyun follow that thought process to it’s conclusion:  _safety first_.  
  
“He’s my best friend,” Kyuhyun says.  
  
“That you didn’t tell your fuck buddy about.”  
  
“Why would I need to do that? We’re not dating.”  
  
 _Because you have Zhou Mi, the upright citizen whom we sometimes have a threesome with. Really good threesomes._  “Does your other boy toy know about him?”  
  
“He knows Changmin’s my friend. That’s all.”  
  
 _Changmin_ , Sungmin thinks. All that trouble to keep the name a secret and Kyuhyun says it out loud without even thinking. Must be the goddamn wine. “What’ll happen when Zhou Mi sees Changmin’s face plastered on the evening news? Because you know that’ll happen.”  
  
“I don’t know what he’ll think,” Kyuhyun admits, “Probably be suspicious of me, but I’m sure I will be able to dissuade him.” He casts a sly glance in Sungmin’s direction.  _With your help_  is clearly implied. Sungmin finds he doesn’t really mind. He sets his wine glass down, careful to do so on a coaster, and steps into Kyuhyun’s space, tasting the alcohol on his breath as he works a hand into Kyuhyun’s hair. “I still don’t understand why you’re sleeping with him.”  
  
Kyuhyun’s eyes are unfocused, and Sungmin would like to think it’s less to do with the wine and more to do with his mouth. “Mm,” Kyuhyun murmurs, “Like him. Mostly.” He swirls his glass. “Besides, he’s all legs.”  
  
Sungmin would have scoffed, but Kyuhyun moves in of his own account. “I’m not someone you can fuck your sorrows into,” Sungmin tells him.  
  
“I’m not,” Kyuhyun says, “I want you. I’m jealous of my friend and I want you. Please.”  
  
Sungmin has never been good at saying no.  
  
—  
  
Kyuhyun is gone when Sungmin wakes up, but he doesn’t much mind. He trudges down to Changmin’s room with some breakfast, happy to find them awake.  
  
“Did Kyuhyun say goodbye?”  
  
“Yes,” Changmin nods, and takes the tray of food. “Thank you.”  
  
“We’re leaving in a half hour. I have some things to get in order and then I’ll come and get you. Be ready.”  
  
Sungmin takes a shower, mentally plotting out the day in steps. The next safe house in the chain is a good half days travel from here, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before everyone in Korea knows the faces of the two people currently hiding in his bar. He switches on his television to see if they’ve made the news yet, and is relieved to see that it hasn’t happened. The government must think Changmin’s still in the city, which they are obviously right about, and Sungmin hopes they’re very far away before that changes.  
  
He packs a bag of necessities for himself, as he always does, just in case he’s found out. He’s not in charge of making fake IDs, so Sungmin leaves his camera and equipment for that, as well as money, knowing Kyuhyun had given them some already. Despite his earlier quip, he knows all too well the importance of cash while on the run.  
  
He’s ready in record time, a hat pulled low on his head. Normally, he doesn’t escort anyone himself, but as these are Kyuhyun’s friends, he’ll go. They have an edge if they’re not traveling alone anyhow, and Sungmin would like to give them that.  
  
They’re dressed and ready when Sungmin comes for them. “Don’t look nervous, keep your hats and hoods on, but don’t look like you’re actually trying to hide your face. Look like you know exactly where you’re going. Don’t bump into anyone or anything and if you see an officer, don’t turn and look away. They’ll be immediately suspicious. We’ll take the bus for as long as we can and then we’ll walk. We should be there by this afternoon.”  
  
If they’re not found and killed first, anyway. But he doesn’t need to voice that aloud. It’s perfectly obvious.  
  
They do a good job of not looking like lovers, or even that they may in anyway be related. Sungmin’s not sure if it’s because they don’t really know each other or if they’re both just very good actors, but either way it’s none of his business. They don’t hang all over each other and so he’s fine with it. Fine with them.  
  
Sitting on the bus, they crowd together, Sungmin occasionally mentioning the weather, or the stock market, and Changmin answers with ease. The girl (whose name Sungmin still doesn’t know and doesn’t have any intention of knowing,) remains quiet. She actually falls asleep for a good portion of the ride, and Sungmin takes the initiative to rest his head on Changmin’s shoulder, their conversation continuing. Sungmin can feel Changmin tense every time the bus stops, and then relax as it starts off again. Even when they reach their stop, Sungmin has to step in between him and the girl so Changmin keeps his hands off her. “You are going to get us all killed,” he hisses, “You are so fucking obvious right now I want to throw you through a window.” He pushes the girl in front of them, and walk a few steps ahead. “Stop looking at her,” Sungmin says, “Changmin, if you want to survive you have to stop.”  
  
Sungmin can hear Changmin grind his teeth in irritation, but he restrains himself. Sungmin’s never been so uptight, clinging to Changmin’s jacket sleeve as he whispers directions to the girl and keeps an eye out for anyone that may be following them.  
  
He doesn’t breathe easy until he reaches the street that’s been emblazoned in his memory. He’s been in the house dozens of times, but he never gets sick of it; it’s one of the few traditional Korean homes still standing, and because of that, one of the few houses not regularly tossed by the government and therefore relatively safe, so long as no one stays longer than a few nights.  
  
The door creaks as it slides open, and Sungmin smiles at the man who pokes his head out. It had been awhile since he’s been here, and he’s missed them. “Changmin,” he says, once their inside the mudroom, “This is Jungsu.”  
  
Jungsu looks frazzled and a little irritated, even as he accepts Sungmin’s hug. “Youngwoon troubles or work problems?” Sungmin asks, because it’s always one of the two.  
  
Jungsu sighs, sounding resigned. “Both.” He glances over Sungmin’s shoulder. “Need a room for the night?”  
  
Sungmin nods. He looks back, finding Changmin with an arm wrapped firmly around Qian. “And food,” he tells Jungsu.  
  
They follow Jungsu into the kitchen, and Sungmin decides to follow his ears to the living room, where he can hear the nightly news starting up for the evening.  
  
 _…population has increased again this quarter, the government is looking at reducing the number of permitted pregnancies once more to hopefully…_  
  
Youngwoon is in front of the television with a scowl the size of China on his face.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Youngwoon grunts.  
  
“Should I give you a cheesy line about your face staying that way forever?”  
  
“No,” Youngwoon mutters, “I get enough of that from Jungsu. Why are you here and not at your bar getting drunk on your wine?”  
  
“Delivering a couple of fugitives.”  
  
 _…heterosexuals have been rounded up and a number of pregnant women were found…_  
  
Youngwoon finally looks up, his eyebrows raised skeptically, “You actually walked people here? I don’t remember the last time you bothered. Are they friends of yours?”  
  
“Friend of a friend.”  
  
“I don’t believe you. You would never do that for me.”  
  
 _…remind the general population that there are indeed clubs in Seoul that house a number of…_  
  
Sungmin flaps a hand. “For a friend I may have sex with once and awhile.”  
  
Youngwoon chuckles. “Now that I believe. Have you eaten? There’s extra take out.” The scowl returns. “Since, you know, I was working and couldn’t cook and Jungsu was working when he told me he wasn’t. So we had to order out.”  
  
 _…and his partner Jung Yunho continue to find pockets of heterosexuals scattered throughout the city. A superior of theirs today said…_  
  
“You do realize,” Sungmin says, plopping down onto the couch next to Youngwoon, “That your marital problems are significantly minuscule in comparison to what other people have to deal with. I mean. There are people that cheat on their spouses.  _That’s_  a problem.”  
  
“I’d never cheat on Jungsu,” Youngwoon says.  
  
 _…heterosexuals were discovered only yesterday to have fled their respective apartments and are now at large…_  
  
“Turn that up,” Sungmin urges, knocking his knee against Youngwoon’s.  
  
He does not like what he hears. Changmin and the girl (whose name is Qian, he learns,) are prominently displayed as the top story of the evening, HETEROSEXUALS ON THE RUN in bright red lettering the bottom of the screen.  
  
“Perfect,” he mutters, “Just great.”  
  
“No way will they make it on their own to the next stop,” Youngwoon says, eyes still on the screen. “You should take them into the city. To Heechul. He can get them to the next house safely.”  
  
“Mother fucker,” Sungmin says automatically.  
  
“Yeah,” Youngwoon agrees, and changes the channel.  
  
—  
  
The red light district is the perfect place to hide heterosexuals. The only reason they aren’t is because Heechul owns the entire street, and he doesn’t harbor fugitives unless he knows them. It’s bad for business, or at least that’s what he says, so taking anyone to his household is a rare occurrence and usually costs someone heavily. The only reason Sungmin’s doing it now, is because  _Kyuhyun_  is making all of this worth Sungmin’s effort, and Sungmin is going to add on a hefty service charge, the form of which is to be determined.  
  
Heechul’s main house is packed with people, most of them drunk off their asses, and Sungmin guides Changmin and Qian through the shadows, ushering them through doors until he gets to Heechul’s office (bedroom, really,) and raps on the wood sharply.  
  
He doesn’t expect anyone to answer right away, and they don’t. He persists, knocking at three second intervals until he hears a huff, and the door cracks open to reveal a sliver of Heechul’s face.  
  
“What do you want? I’m busy.”  
  
“I need help.”  
  
“My help is expensive.”  
  
The door opens a bit more and Heechul tilts his head a bit, giving Changmin and Qian a once over.  
  
“I know what you cost,” Sungmin says, “But they’re all over the news. Youngwoon didn’t want to send them out by themselves.”  
  
“I’m not into charity, Sungmin, you know that.”  
  
“Which is why we’ll pay you.”  
  
Heechul looks between the three of them for awhile, gnawing on his lip a bit, before opening the door fully. “Fine. But just for a night.”  
  
Sungmin breathes a sigh of relief, and follows Heechul inside, though almost immediately regrets it, getting an eyeful of two men splayed out on a bed, naked. Heechul’s grinning. “Stay here while I secure you a room.”  
  
“Heechul,” Sungmin starts.  
  
“I’m in the middle of giving them a job interview.” Heechul eyes Sungmin, “I’ll be right back.”  
  
The two men on the bed ignore them in favor of whispering back and forth to each other, their hands doing things to each other underneath the blanket that starts to make their breath stutter. Sungmin looks away and leads Changmin and Qian to a couch which at least half hides them from the men on the bed. “You’ll be safe here, and Heechul will be able to get you somewhere even safer tomorrow.”  
  
“What about you?” Changmin asks him.  
  
“I’m going to leave as soon as Heechul lets me.”  
  
“The price—“ Changmin starts.  
  
“Is nothing to concern yourself over. Whatever I have to do for Heechul is what Kyuhyun is going to have to do for me, and he said that he would take care of whatever cost I incur while keeping you safe.”  
  
Changmin looks partially relieved. “Thank you.”  
  
“Thank Kyuhyun,” Sungmin says.  
  
They’ve only just started to get comfortable when Heechul comes back inside, a frown on his face. “I don’t have anything free tonight. But,” he holds up a hand, rings glinting as Sungmin opens his mouth to protest, “I can get you to a friend that can. Besides which, I have a lot of officers here today, so it’s not safe. I’m looking out for you,” he grins, curling an arm around Sungmin’s neck, “Be appreciative.”  
  
“We are,” Changmin says, from where he’s got an arm around Qian’s middle.  
  
“You can finish my interview while I’m gone,” Heechul tells Sungmin, nose brushing against his cheek. “I’ll be back once I’ve gotten them to Jaejoong. Take notes!”


End file.
